Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Lesotho and from Tokyo.
But I was there.
I was there in 1979.
I was there at the first Josef K show in Edinburgh.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1969 to 1973.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Mumbai and Johannesburg.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Houston kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 2001 at the first Tiga practice in a loft in Montreal.
I was working on the clarinet sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Jesper Dahlback to the techno kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Kenny Larkin. All the underground hits.
All Scott Walker + Sunn O))) tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Scion record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal funk hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '70s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a clarinet and a chamberlin and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a DNA record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your linndrum and bought a harpsichord.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a linndrum.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
Mantronix,
Ronnie Foster,
Mars,
Lizzy Mercier Descloux,
Art Ensemble Of Chicago,
B.T. Express,
Letta Mbulu,
Soft Machine,
The West Coast Pop Art Experimental Band,
Bill Wells,
Infiniti,
DJ Sneak,
In Retrospect,
These Immortal Souls,
Glambeats Corp.,
The Gun Club,
Jerry's Kids,
Iggy Pop,
Neil Young & Crazy Horse,
James White and The Blacks,
FM Einheit,
Graham Central Station,
Curtis Mayfield,
Patti Smith,
The Searchers,
Amon Düül,
Rod Modell,
Trumans Water,
Crooked Eye,
Max Romeo,
La Düsseldorf,
Simply Red,
Pierre Henry,
Lou Christie,
48th St. Collective,
Sun Ra,
Y Pants,
Notorious Big And Bone Thugs,
Rowland S Howard / Lydia Lunch,
The Saints,
Thompson Twins,
Black Flag,
The Invisible,
Magma,
Pete Rock & C.L. Smooth,
F. McDonald,
Wighnomy Brothers & Robag Wruhme,
June of 44,
OOIOO,
Rekid,
Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade,
Television Personalities,
Sarah Menescal,
The Black Dice,
Malaria!,
U.S. Maple,
Girls At Our Best!,
Minny Pops,
Glenn Branca,
Sly & The Family Stone,
Crash Course in Science,
Hoover,
Absolute Body Control,
Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence, Massinfluence.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.